


I'm building this house (on the moon)

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Whumptober 2020 [11]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Feelings, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood-centric, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Alec Lightwood, I do NOT give him the nice things, I don't give him that either, M/M, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicide, Whumptober 2020, a few shadowhunters for the sake of the story, and now on to the serious tags, no beta we die like men, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: After a bad day leads Alec to the training room, he spirals further and accepts a mission with a group of other Shadowhunters. When the mission goes terribly wrong, Alec is faced with a choice that will affect the rest of the Shadow World forever.Whumptober 2020 prompt fic - StrugglingNo happy ending.Warnings for major character death, self-harm, blood, injury, violence, and suicide. Please, please keep yourselves safe and don't read if any of these could be triggering to you!! <3
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Andrew Underhill, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & himself, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Whumptober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950094
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	I'm building this house (on the moon)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I actually wrote this fic a while ago, but I decided to repurpose it for Whumptober. The prompt attached to this fic is: struggling. The title was taken from the song Moondust by Jaymes Young. It's a wonderful song and I definitely recommend it! 
> 
> Warnings for major character death, no happy ending, self-harm, blood, injury, violence, and suicide within. Please make sure to keep yourselves safe!! <3
> 
> I really hope you like this!! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Voices droned like static vibrations in the air, and Alec tried to listen, he really did, but their words escaped him and he had to just fold his hands in his lap and pretend he was paying attention. He was the Head of the Institute, he organised this meeting, he was supposed to pay attention and know what was going on. But the world was hazy and he felt like he was viewing the meeting room through a foggy lens. 

Alec was acutely aware of his own body in a way he wasn’t used to, and it made him want to scream, want to fight, want to do anything _but_ sit in this damn chair and listen to the viewpoints of several disgruntled Shadowhunters. 

His hands shook, and he clenched them into fists. He was suddenly and viciously aware of the bone-deep exhaustion that plagued his movements and made his gaze heavy and apathetic. His stomach growled, and he wondered lazily when the last time he ate was. He didn’t think he had anything yesterday. He definitely hadn’t had anything today. His eyelids were heavy and he knew there were dark circles ringing his ice-blue eyes. He was exhausted. Static prickled beneath his skin like he himself was radioactive and he hated it, wanted it gone. 

The meeting carried on, cycling through several speakers, and Alec was yet to make a comment. He had no idea what was being said, and he found himself suddenly very grateful for Anderson, his secretary, who took notes at meetings like this and gave them back to Alec later. It was supposed to be for official purposes, so he had a record of what was said when, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had used it to familiarize himself with what had actually happened at the meeting. 

Alec ran his hand over his face and let a small sigh, barely more than a breath or two, puff past his lips. By the Angel, he was tired. He was so tired, it hurt. 

In his peripheral vision, Alec could see Underhill shooting him concerned looks, but he ignored them. He just needed to get through this meeting. His mind screamed at him that it would always be one more meeting, one more deadline, one more day, that he would never be done or free or happy, but he ignored that, too. 

Finally, finally, the speaker sat down and Alec could have cried with relief when no one else stood up to take her place. He rose unsteadily, trying to hide how he gripped the table for support, and said, “If that’s all, I think we can adjourn this meeting.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and Alec dismissed the Shadowhunters at the meeting table with a wave of his hand. By the Angel, everything hurt. The last time Alec felt this bad was after he got knocked on his ass by a Greater demon years ago. 

To his chagrin but not complete surprise, Underhill stuck around, waiting for Alec to get his things and start walking towards his office. 

“No offense, boss, but you don’t look so good,” Underhill commented, jogging to keep up with Alec’s long strides. 

Alec waved his hand dismissively. “Thanks, Andrew, it’s my disposition shining through.”

Underhill rolled his eyes, but his brows drew together with concern. “Seriously, Alec. Maybe you should take the day off. Go home and rest. Isabelle and I can handle the Institute for today.”

“I’m fine,” Alec responded curtly. He looked at his watch, seeking an escape from this conversation, and, by some stroke of luck, found one. “Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol right now?”

Underhill flushed and looked at the ground. Alec shoulder-checked him, a silent ‘it’s okay’ and said, “You’d better get to it.” Underhill sent him one last worried glance, and then he hurried off down the hallway to join his team. 

Alec sighed and turned the doorknob to his office. He had a stack of paperwork waiting for him. He sat down at his desk, groaning with the effort, and eyed the stack dubiously. He’d been hoping to knock it out this afternoon and start fresh tomorrow, but the notion of completing even one seemed impossible.

He dug his nails into the skin around his eyes harshly, relishing the waves of pain that exploded outwards. His stomach rolled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything today, and the exhaustion washed over him once more. He wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep until nothing hurt anymore. His mind whispered to him that it would always hurt, no matter how much he slept, now matter how long he waited, no matter what he did. He groaned and dropped his head onto his desk with a small _thump_.

The cool mahogany felt good on Alec’s burning skin, and he closed his eyes with relief. Immediately, the first traces of drowsiness filled his senses, and he jolted upwards. He couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t have time. For fuck’s sake, he had work to do. 

He picked up a pen and slid the first file towards him, reading over it with blurry eyes and graying vision. The words rushed like ping pong balls through his mind, but they refused to stick anywhere, not giving Alec a chance to pin them down so he could understand them. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip until blood blossomed from the small wound he’d created. He needed to _focus_. Why couldn’t he just focus?

Alec caught sight of his bow lying dormant against the fireplace, and his hands ached. Maybe a little archery or hand-to-hand would revive him, kindle a little flicker of a flame to combat how fucking wrecked he felt. 

He stood up, but the motion punched the breath from his lungs and he gasped, clutching the side of his desk for support. The world swam before his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying to steady himself. He took a step forward and stumbled, almost falling. He felt light and heavy at the same time; light with hunger and heavy with exhaustion. He knew he should get something to eat, should take a nap on the couch in his office, but he had so much work to do. 

Slowly, his office began to take shape in front of him, solid enough to reach out and touch. He didn’t feel dizzy anymore. He took a tentative step forward and was relieved when he was met with no resistance from his body. He strode forward, grabbed his bow and quiver, and set off for the training room. 

When he entered the room, Alec felt a rush of comfort at the sight of the plain white walls, red leather punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and wooden benches anchored to the floor. His eyes flicked between his bow and one of the punching bags, deliberating. He _did_ need to work on his hand-to-hand. Jace was always saying it needed improvement. 

Alec dropped his bow and quiver and approached the punching bag. He was already throwing the first punch before he thought of wrapping his hands. 

Pain invaded his senses from the force of the hit, and Alec gasped. It was exactly what he’d needed. He punched again. 

Halfway through his assault, Alec realised with a start that his nails were digging bloody gouges into his hands. He stumbled back and away from the punching bag, half-sitting and half-falling onto the nearest bench. He stared at his knuckles; they were bloody and torn, bruises lining his wrists and fingers stiff under the pressure of being clenched tight for too long. He swallowed hard. He hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Magnus was going to be so disappointed. 

_Magnus._

_Oh, by the Angel,_ Magnus. 

Alec was a fool. 

He should have realised what was happening. He should have realised that he was backsliding, that he was in the midst of a spiral, before he took to the punching bag. He was a fucking idiot. 

He and Magnus had talked about this before, when Magnus first noticed the bruises on Alec’s knuckles that he never bothered to heal. Hell, they had talked about it a little after that first time on Magnus’s balcony, after he’d killed Jocelyn. 

Magnus relied on Alec to tell him the truth, to come to him when he felt like this before it got to the point where he smashed his knuckles into a bloody pulp in the training room. And now, Alec had broken that trust. He shuddered with the realisation.

Alec fingered the stele in his pocket, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Did Magnus have to know? The pain had sharpened his senses, silenced his mind, and he was confident that he could get his work done now. He didn’t need Magnus to hold him or make him feel better when he’d already done that himself. 

Did he?

It felt a lot like lying, and Alec hated to lie. But he didn’t want to worry Magnus or make him think he couldn’t handle himself. This was the best solution. 

Alec grasped the handle of his stele and traced it over his wounds, watching them close up under the sting of the rune. It felt oddly disappointing, and he pocketed his stele and left for his office before he had the chance to ponder on that any longer. 

~ ~ ~

By the time Alec normally left the Institute, half of the stack of paperwork was completed, and he had gone back to feeling like shit again. He sighed and twirled a pen between his fingers, trying to arrange his thoughts in a way that would make sense to his overtired brain. He needed to _think_. 

If he went home now, Alec was confident that Magnus would know something was wrong. He’d never been very good at hiding his feelings from the warlock, especially now that they were married and spent most of their time together. 

If he didn’t go home, he would...well, he would continue feeling the way he was feeling, but he’d be able to hide it. He wouldn’t have to admit that he was slipping, that he needed help, that he felt like breaking and collapsing into tiny little pieces. 

Alec flipped through his daybook and checked the patrols. One was about to leave. Thank god. At least now he could feel like he was doing something. At least now he could still pretend that he deserved to be a leader. 

Alec sprinted down to the ops center after grabbing his bow and a couple of seraph blades, barely managing to catch the patrol before they left. 

“Mr. Lightwood! We didn’t know you’d be joining us,” one of the younger recruits exclaimed happily. 

Alec laughed for the young girl’s benefit and said, “Yeah, me neither. Kind of a last-minute thing.” 

With that, he and the rest of the Shadowhunters exited the Institute in pursuit of the nest of demons that had been terrorizing New York for the past few days. Alec clutched his bow tighter, eyes bright and alert. He could use a good fight. 

About halfway through their allotted patrol time, Alec and the other Shadowhunters stumbled across an abandoned warehouse, reeking of ichor and blood. He nodded to the leader of the group and they began to split into pairs, entering the building one by one. 

Alec and the group leader, a Shadowhunter named Thomas Graceley, were one of the first to breach the warehouse. When he stepped inside, a talon immediately raked Alec’s side, the demon having scented their arrival. Graceley stopped for a minute, but Alec gave him the all-good signal and they pushed on. 

Panting from this injury and the adrenaline of the hunt, Alec moved with Graceley towards the center of the room, where the nest was located. Demons chittered and tried to make a move towards them, but the other Shadowhunters in their group were doing a good job at holding them off. Alec found himself almost disappointed, half-wishing they’d let one of the demons sink its claws into him. 

He and Graceley managed to make it to the nest, where the queen was waiting for them. This type of demon followed their queen’s every order, and Alec knew that most of the queen’s followers would die on sight or evaporate once she was killed. Graceley exchanged a nervous glance with Alec, and Alec tried to put on a brave face for him. This type of demon queen was notoriously hard to kill. 

Graceley made the first swipe with his blade, and Alec watched with a grim look as the queen dodged it with ease. He stepped closer and tried to stab the demon in its pink belly, but the queen shrieked and moved faster than Alec thought she would be able to. He made to retreat, but the demon was too quick. 

“Lightwood!” Graceley’s voice boomed through the warehouse, and several of the other Shadowhunters turned to cast fatal looks in Alec’s direction. Alec himself fell to his knees, his arm and ribs exploding with pain. He heard someone scream, thought it might be him or one of the other Shadowhunters - he couldn’t tell. 

“Hold on, Lightwood,” Graceley was saying, and Alec felt a firm arm around his waist, another snaking behind his knees, and then the dizzying sensation of being lifted. He moaned in pain and a wave of nausea rolled over him. His body felt like it was on fire. 

A cacophony of noise and panicked voices flashed in and out of Alec’s consciousness, and he was vaguely aware of the cool, biting night air. They’d left the warehouse. He shifted in Graceley’s arms, tried to get down. He could _walk_ , he just had to catch his breath. Graceley tightened his hold on Alec. “Sorry, boss, we’ve got to get you back to the Institute.”

Someone else behind them shrieked, “I’ll call the warlock!” and Alec groaned, trying to protest. This wouldn’t be the first time Magnus saw him injured, but it would be the first time he saw him like this - completely exhausted, on the verge of making a run for it just to get away from this care for his safety, and half-wishing the demon had dug its talons in just a little bit deeper, until they pierced his heart and bled the life right out of him. 

The group reached the Institute in record time - he had a feeling Graceley had applied a few runes - and before long, Alec was lowered into a bed and he recognised the clinical stench of the infirmary. 

Lights swam in his peripheral vision, and voices overlapped and mixed together until they sounded like static electricity saturated with graveness. Alec wanted to close his eyes and rest, but he could feel his skin being poked with needles and his head pounded like someone was drilling into his skull with a butter knife. He moaned again, a low exclamation of pain that made the infirmary doctor up his morphine drip. Alec kept his mouth shut after that. 

Finally, the atmosphere seemed to grind to a halt, and Alec could breathe again. His body flamed with pain, but he welcomed it. It made him feel alive. 

In the distance, as if through a tunnel, Alec recognised Magnus’s voice and the flash of cool blue magic. He was directing the infirmary staff, Alec realised. It made his heart clench to think that Magnus had patched him up after a hunt gone wrong so many times that he knew exactly what to do. He wanted to cry. Healing wasn’t even supposed to be in Magnus’s skillset. 

He felt better now, like he might be able to understand what was happening around him, and he tentatively allowed himself to focus on his environment rather than his body and the pain racing through his veins like a drug. 

The infirmary still swam in his vision, but he could see the blurred outlines of the staff and the medicine cabinets in front of him. They were standing off to the side, letting Magnus work, and Alec didn’t blame them. Magnus was a force to be reckoned with at the best of times, and when someone he cared about was injured, he commanded the room like he belonged there. It was one of the many things Alec loved about him. 

The buzz in his mind had quieted, and Alec was grateful that Magnus didn’t use his magic to soothe the pain just yet. He knew that he would, when they were alone, but he seemed to sense that, for now, Alec needed the bite of his wounds to deal with the presence of the infirmary staff and process what was happening. 

Cool blue magic licked over Alec’s body, healing needle wounds and hesitating over the larger ones caused by the demon. A tendril of smoke wisped out and closed the wound over his ribs, and Alec had a feeling that it was involuntary. The wound on his arm remained untouched, and Alec was grateful. 

“I think I’ve got it covered from here,” the outline of Magnus said to the infirmary staff. “If you’d like to attend to the other patients, I can take care of Alec.” The staff nodded and rushed off, which quickened Alec’s heartbeat. Other patients? There were others?

Magnus stepped closer to Alec and pressed one finger, magic curling around it, to Alec’s temple. Within a second, the haze cleared and Alec could see Magnus and the infirmary without any problem. He swallowed hard and avoided Magnus’s gaze. He knew that Magnus knew what was going on. He would have healed Alec’s wound immediately if he hadn’t. 

“Darling,” Magnus spoke, and it was so soft and so full of love that it made Alec’s chest hurt, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine, Magnus,” Alec responded, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He could hear the clatter of medicine cabinets and the rustle of supplies. The infirmary staff were still working. He sent Magnus a panicked look, clutching at the sheets that covered him. 

Magnus looked like he didn’t want to answer, but he knew that Alec wouldn’t leave it alone until he knew what was going on. “Some other Shadowhunters were injured, as well.”

Alec struggled to push himself into a sitting position, ignoring Magnus’s outstretched hand that tried to push him back against the pillows. “Did we kill the queen?” 

Again, Magnus avoided his eyes. “No, they did not manage to kill the queen. They did deplete the number of her followers significantly.” 

Alec shook his head, his eyes prickling with unshed tears. “That doesn’t matter. This type of demon, it makes new ones in seconds. Her ranks were probably back to normal by the time we made it back to the Institute.” He bit his lip angrily. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been hit, they wouldn’t have had to make an early retreat and probably could have killed the queen. 

“There’s something else.” Now Magnus _really_ looked away. “A few Shadowhunters were killed.”

Alec felt like an ice cube had been dropped into his stomach. “W-What?”

“A few of the younger recruits,” Magnus said, and his tone was wary, like he expected Alec to explode any second. “They were killed.”

A memory flashed through Alec’s mind, unbidden, and he gasped. The young girl from before, who had been so happy that the Head of the Institute was joining their patrol. She had glanced back at Alec when she heard Graceley shout, and the demon she was battling had cut into her. 

_Oh, god._

He’d killed her. 

Her metaphorical blood was on his hands. There was no denying that. He felt sick. 

“Alexander - ” Magnus started, but Alec was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed and tearing at the hospital gown they’d placed him in. 

“Where are my clothes, Magnus? I need my clothes.”

“They’re over there,” Magnus answered reluctantly. “But Alexander, I - ” Alec ignored him, grabbing the pile of ichor-stained clothing and retreating behind the curtain surrounding his bed. He changed quickly, ditching the hospital gown and his IV on the mattress. 

Magnus tried to grab his uninjured arm and halt his progress, but Alec pulled free and ran from the infirmary. 

Anger and self-hatred threatened to boil over as Alec made his way to the training room, the tears in his eyes that were too close to falling quickening his step. He almost ran into Isabelle on his way there, who took one look at him and tried to get him to stop. He shook her off and began to run.

By the time he reached the training room, he was breathing hard and the demon wound on his arm was stinging horribly. He gritted his teeth and pressed his hand against the wound, hissing in pain. He deserved it. 

The choices overwhelmed him as Alec stared into the training room. Punching bag, bow and arrow, battle simulation.

It was too much. 

Alec sprinted for the thing nearest him and sank his fist into the concrete wall. 

Pain exploded through his hand, and it felt so good and hurt so bad, tears began to roll down his cheeks. He punched again. 

Concrete clung to his fingers as Alec threw his fist into the wall again and again, trying and failing to contain his sobs. She was dead. She was dead, Angel knew how many others were, too, and it was all his fault. 

Alec was vaguely aware of someone else entering the training room, and a voice shouting his name. He heard footsteps approach him rapidly, and before he knew it, two strong arms had grabbed him, wrenching him away from the wall. Alec gritted his teeth and fought whoever it was for control, but they exclaimed, “Dammit, Alec!” and held tighter. 

Awareness seeped into Alec’s mind, and he recognised the feeling of Jace’s leather jacket beneath his fingers. He stopped struggling, gasping for air as Jace wrangled him towards the door and away from the training room. 

“Stop,” Alec panted. “Stop it, let me go!” 

“Are you going to freak out on me if I do?” Jace questioned, his tone laced with caution, and Alec shook his head. Jace released him from the bruising grip, and Alec stumbled away from him, still inhaling huge gulps of oxygen to try and come down from his adrenaline high. 

“Dude,” Jace said, regarding Alec with wariness, “That was scary as hell to walk in on.”

Alec chose to ignore his statement and turned away from his parabatai. “Why were you in here, anyway?”

“Magnus told me to check on you,” Jace admitted. “He said you might be in the training room and could do with an intervention.”

“If Magnus thinks I need help, he can come and _intervene_ himself,” Alec growled, and he pushed past Jace and towards the hallway. 

Jace jogged to catch up with him, grabbing Alec’s arm before he could move away. “Alec, _what happened_? God, I - you’re scaring me, Alec.” 

Alec bit his lip against the onslaught of tears that threatened at Jace’s words. “I’m fine, Jace.”

“Bullshit you’re fine,” Jace growled. “You, being in the training room, is not fine, Alec!” Alec flinched at that. He hated that his siblings had become aware of his habit, of the fact that a punching bag was dangerous for him on nights like this. 

“This,” Jace snapped, and he grabbed Alec’s wrist to shove his hand in front of his face, “is _not fine_!” 

Alec _stared_ , even after Jace dropped his hand. Ugly, purpling bruises painted his knuckles like some kind of sick, twisted art display and his fingers were misshapen and bent at odd angles. Blood caked his hands and wrists. Lighter bruises covered his palms and provided a soft tan backdrop to the mess of his knuckles. He swallowed hard. This was, this was...god, this had to be the worst that he’d ever done. 

Alec tried hard to push down the overwhelming sense of pride he felt at that fact. 

“We have to take care of you,” Jace said, sighing, his anger gone for the time being. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

That made Alec freeze, stumbling away from Jace with wide eyes. “What? No.”

“What do you mean, no?! Your hand is broken!”

“Then let it stay that way!” Alec shouted. “I deserve it, Jace!”

Jace’s eyes widened, and for once in his life, he was stunned into silence. Alec hated the look on his face, that mixture of pity and fear for Alec. He held up his uninjured hand in a gesture that would have made Jace wait for Alec to make the next move under different circumstances, and stumbled away from his parabatai. 

Jace tried to follow him, but Alec moved faster than even he thought he was capable of and slipped out the door to the roof. 

He took the stairs two at a time and emerged onto the roof in a matter of seconds. The night air was harsh and biting on his bare skin, and it seemed to sink into his bones, making him feel colder and more miserable than ever before. 

Her smile ran through his mind, haunting the whites of his eyes until it was all he could see. He wanted out, wanted away, wanted to _fucking stop_ \- Alec approached the edge of the roof and stared down at the street below. Cars cast patches of orange light onto the road, and streetlamps emitted a yellow glow that made Alec’s head hurt. He inhaled shakily and swung his legs over the ledge. 

It was darker below than Alec had thought it would be. The darkness seemed to beckon to him and warn him away at the same time, and a few tears slipped down Alec’s cheeks. He was so tired. 

_By the Angel,_ he was so tired. 

An overview of the past few weeks in fast-forward told Alec that this break wasn’t exactly out of nowhere; he’d been backsliding for close to a month, but the misery had settled into his bones so well that he hadn’t even been aware of it until his training-room-come-iratze a few hours earlier. 

Alec sighed, and his breath crystallized in the air for a few seconds before disappearing. This wasn’t a freak occurrence. He should have known. He should have fucking _known_. 

Indecision pounded in his chest, and his hands shook where they were gripping the ledge. The desire to let himself crash into the concrete below, to erase his existence like it had never been a part of this world, let himself become nothing more than a blip on the radar of a world that was full of other, better people. He didn’t know how long the Institute would grieve, but he couldn’t imagine it would be very long. His replacement would have to be hired. Life would have to go on. Life _would_ go on.

Life would go on without him. 

Alec heard the door to the roof creaking, signaling the arrival of someone else, exactly at the same moment as he let go of the ledge and began to fall. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open, but very slow! Thanks for your patience! <3
> 
> If you love Shadowhunters, chaos, and gaining new friends (or any combination of the three), I invite you to [join the Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) I run with my friends! We're a multifandom server that caters to Shadowhunters, Supernatural, Marvel, and more. We welcome everyone, and we'd love to have you! <3


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